Birds of a Feather
by Mara Greengrass
Summary: Now that Bernard's a part of the family, somebody wants to have a little chat.


TITLE: Birds of a Feather  
PERMISSION TO ARCHIVE: Please ask.  
SUMMARY: Now that Bernard's a part of the family, somebody wants to have a little chat.  
CONTINUITY: Takes place after my fic "Out There With You," and also goes AU after Identity Crisis and War Games.  
DISCLAIMER: These characters belong to DC Comics. I just fantasize and worry about them.  
NOTES: This is a light-hearted follow-up to a much angstier fic, featuring the conversation several people asked me to write. Unbetaread because I'm too lazy. Deal. 

Tim looked hesitant and Bernard felt his eyebrows shoot up. Tim never looked hesitant. Well, except sometimes in situations that involved, say, deep emotional content.

"Yeeees?" Bernard asked with a great deal of trepidation.

"You've met most of the...family. But there's one very important person left and he's coming by today. He, uh, he wants to talk to you. Alone."

Bernard frowned, running through vigilantes he had known, or met, at least. "Who is it? I thought I'd met all the cape and tights crowd in the area by now. I met Huntress last month and boy, was that disturbing. I've even met Superboy and Kid Flash and why you're shtupping me when--"

"Bernard, focus." Now Tim looked annoyed, so obviously this unknown person was important.

Folding his arms, Bernard waited to be enlightened.

"Um, his name is Alfred."

"I'm sure that name strikes fear in the hearts of criminals somewhere."

"He's not a, I mean, he doesn't do that. He..." Tim trailed off, looking helpless. "It's complicated, but he practically raised most of us."

Bernard blinked. "My god. I'm finally meeting Dad."

"That's not funny."

Wincing, Bernard rubbed his thumb across Tim's cheek. "No, it wasn't. Sorry. This guy is obviously important to you, so I'll try to be on my best behavior."

Tim sighed. "Yeah. Look, he'll be here in a little while. Just...hear him out."

"Of course." Bernard tried to sound soothing, but his mind raced. Who was this Alfred?

* * *

Bernard had planned to tidy up before the arrival of their mystery visitor, but instead sat at the computer and pretended to work while watching Tim frantically organize things. It was astounding to watch: A visit from Batman didn't inspire anything more than an upgrade to the loft's defenses. Batgirl and Nightwing got cocoa and cookies or a sparring match that ended up with someone getting a black eye. But this Alfred person apparently merited a full-scale attack on the dust in the corners. Interesting.

When the alarms chirped to let them know someone was entering the proper codes, Tim stopped dead in the middle of the room and dithered.

Bernard stared in shock. Tim dithering was one of the signs of the apocalypse, wasn't it? Up there with Batman sending him a Christmas card and Batgirl tripping over her own feet. But no, that was unmistakably Tim dithering. The Four Horsemen couldn't be far behind.

"Just come sit down," Bernard finally said, patting the space on the couch next to him. Tim swallowed, turning to face the door as it opened.

Bernard wasn't entirely sure what he'd been expecting--after all, he'd been so consistently surprised in the past few months--but he was fairly certain the man who entered the room was not it.

The rather elderly gentleman, age impossible to determine, with the tidy moustache, smiled gently when he saw Tim. "Master Timothy, it's very good to see you looking healthier."

Tim grinned, relaxing slightly. "It's good to see you, too, Alfred. Uh, this is Bernard. Bernard, Alfred Pennyworth."

Standing, Bernard came to shake the other man's hand. "It's good to meet you, sir."

The sharp look the 'sir' got him was interesting. "And I'm glad I was finally able to meet you. I had intended to be here sooner but things have been rather busy in Gotham."

"I'm sure they have," Bernard said, gesturing toward the sofa.

Alfred sat down, smiling at Tim. "Well, young man, if I know you, you have plenty you should be doing. Perhaps eating?"

Tim grinned at him. "Yes, Alfred." He saluted solemnly. "I'll be back in an hour." Shooting Bernard another warning look, Tim vanished out the door.

When he looked at Alfred again, Bernard found the other man giving him an appraising look. "Who are you?" he asked with some exasperation, sitting down.

"What did Master Tim tell you?" Alfred folded his hands on his lap, unruffled by the obvious annoyance.

"Nothing, really."

"Hmm." Alfred considered him again. "Perhaps it might be easiest to explain that I provide some of the same assistance to Batman that you provide for Robin. I've been Batman's butler for many years, since he was a child, in fact."

Bernard's eyebrows shot up. "Somehow I have difficulty imagining Batman with a butler. Perhaps it's just a failure of my imagination."

Alfred's lips twitched in a small smile. "Perhaps. Nonetheless, it's true."

"Okay." Nodding slowly, Bernard granted the point. "Tim said you wanted to speak to me."

"I do. You have joined a rather select fraternity and I would be remiss if I did not provide some guidance."

"Guidance in the care and feeding of the rare and endangered urban vigilante?"

"Precisely."

Since he'd been joking, Bernard tried to hide his snicker.

"Ah, you laugh, young man, but you can't deny that Master Timothy requires a great deal of work."

Bernard nodded. "True."

"And I can assure you that of all my charges, he has caused me the least trouble."

Wincing, Bernard tried to imagine it. "You have to make Batman eat? And sleep?"

"Oh yes." Years of suffering were poured into those words.

"I'm so sorry."

"Indeed."

Slowly, Bernard began to smile. This just might be a useful conversation after all.

end--


End file.
